Things I Love: Horses

I can trace my childhood through horses. My mom enrolled my sister and me in horse summer camp to get us out of the house and out of her hair. The barn was less than a half-mile away and kept us occupied from 8-5. Win-win situation! Little did she know, summer camp would spark and seal a lifelong (and expensive!) hobby for both of us over the next twenty years. 

There was an old Appaloosa, the first horse I started camp with at around age 10. I was an awkward, skinny kid with long hair and even longer limbs. The Appaloosa had a mohawk mane and a loose lower lip that we twitched to make him "talk" like Mr. Ed. 

There was Fizzle, an old, nearly albino pony with reddish eyes. Fizzle holds the dubious title of being the first horse to buck me off. Always docile, Fizzle was a favorite for beginner lessons, which I began shortly after camp ended. While patiently waiting for our turn in the ring, Fizzle must have been bitten by a horsefly because, without warning, he suddenly flung his hind legs into the air like a rodeo bronc and took off around the ring, running and bucking like a horse possessed. I managed to cling to the saddle for an eternity (about 2 seconds in real-time) before Fizzle finally threw me into the air. Miraculously, I landed on my feet. I remember thinking, "Wow,that was fun!"

There was Janbelle, the first, best, and orneriest dappled grey pony a girl ever had the misfortune to lease. She would pin her ears, glare at you, and bare her teeth if she didn't want to be saddled up that day. But on her good days, she was a dream. My love of jumping began with her. At barely 15 hands high, she jumped like a horse twice her size. Never failing to clear any obstacle in front of her, she taught a shy, awkward teen how to be fearless, too.

There was Wallop's Miraclewhip ("Wally"), an athletic bay Thoroughbred, the first horse our family owned. (Yes, breeders give horses seriously idiotic names.)

Officially my sister's horse, Wally began our competitive career as hunter/jumpers. (I slowly followed in my sister's steps, occasionally borrowing Wally along the way.) Wally and my sister covered the Chester County show circuit together, winning silken rainbows of ribbons to bedeck our bedroom walls. We sadly sold him when she went to college.

Finally, there was Reese's Pieces ("Reese"), a quirky Appendix Quarter Horse (half TB, half QH), the first horse I owned.

Reese was terrified of buggies. I discovered this quirk when I invited my brand new college boyfriend (now husband) to ride double with me on a trail ride through a corn field. The corn field had a road bordering one side of it. That day, an Amish family happened to pass by in a horse-drawn buggy. Never having seen a buggy before, Reese FLIPPED HIS FREAKING LID. He suddenly reared straight up, dumping my husband off the back into a big mud puddle, and took off at top speed. It took me a good five minutes to rein him in and calm him down. By the time I returned to pick my husband up out of the puddle, the crisis had trotted out of sight. Reese was calmer now but my husband refused to get back on, preferring to walk the mile back to the barn with me and Reese walking beside him. I've never been able to get him back on a horse since.

I sold Reece after college and gave up riding altogether since law school - and then a full-time job at a law firm - demanded all of my time. Now eight years later, I'd really like to get back into it.

Either that, or pick up the violin again. (Next post: the violin and 20/20 hindsight.)

Music I Love: Mumford & Sons

I will fully admit I am probably the last person to find out about Mumford & Sons.  (My husband is the indie audiophile; I need my sister and Ryan Seacrest to tell me what's up on the Billboard Top 40.)  

I'd heard their name tossed around the house without really listening. It wasn't until the Grammy's when I really took notice. I LOVED their performance of The Cave. Who ARE these Brits banging away on their guitars and that weird ol' banjo? WHY does their name sound like a store selling men's oxford shirts? What's up with the crazy harmony? They sound awesome!

 

 

If you haven't heard their Grammy performance, it's worth a listen.

So I got to see them live at Merriweather Post last night.  They are amazing live. The energy! The sound! They sound exactly like they do on the album! Except with an overtrack of screaming fans. Don't believe me?  Check out their performance of The Cave last night (excuse the shaky footage; recording is harder than it looks!)

Awesome, right?  I hate when bands sound like crap in concert. I love when they sound just like - or better than - they do on the album.  Mumford sounded so much better live - it's amazing how they harmonize with each other.  And they're just SO FUN! At one point, Marcus (the eponymous Mumford) and the (very nicely muscled) keyboard player had a mini jig-off. Then everyone around me was jigging in their seats. I've never jigged a day in my life but God help me, I was jigging, too!

They played the whole album, plus a few new songs which sound promising!  I read somewhere that Marcus gets a lot of his inspiration from literature - Sigh No More is a reference to Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, and Dust Bowl Dance draws inspiration from John Steinbeck (East of Eden, Grapes of Wrath, Of Mice and Men.)  Before they hit it big, they would play shows at indie bookstores. LE SIGH - a bookshop band after my literary heart!

Can't wait for them to record a new album then get back on the road again :)

 

 

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

I'd heard so many good things about this book from both science-y and arts-y friends alike that I knew I had to pick it up.  In a fit of full-price online impulse buying, I paid my $9.99 to download it to my Kindle. 

All I can say is... WOW! 

What a thought-provoking book! The science, the race issues, the socioeconomic class divides, the questionable medical ethics - picking just ONE of these topics could spawn hours of discussion. Skloot deftly spins each of these threads into a beautiful, haunting tale of HeLa - the cells on which modern molecular biology was built - and the Lacks family, who still struggle with poverty and lack of education despite the incredible advances their mother's cells gave to Science.

The author did a great job of explaining - without "dumbing it down" too much - why HeLa was so important (research into cancer, AIDS, the effects of radiation and toxic substances, gene mapping, etc.), and what characteristics of these cells made them so widely used (robust replication, immortality) - and problematic (cell culture contamination). On top of this backdrop, Skloot constructs Henrietta's biography from her ancestors to her husband, children, siblings, and other relatives - and takes us through the impact her story had on them. 

I think I was most impressed by the lengths to which Skloot went to gain the Lacks family's trust.  She spent ten years of her life researching Henrietta's history, tracking down Nobel Prize-winning scientists, and convincing the uneducated, fearful Lackses that she was the right person to tell their story.  Somehow, she overcame decades worth of bad feelings from other people trying to exploit their interest in Henrietta for selfish (and sometimes dark) purposes.  Without the Lackses story, the book would not nearly have the power it does.  Interestingly, Skloot's second publisher wanted her to cut out the Lackses story. She said no. (For a debut author, this is unheard of.) Thank goodness she stuck with her guns.

I felt their outrage at being deceived for over twenty years about their mother's cells.  I felt their fear at the sci-fi qualities her cells took on - shot into space? Fused with mice? Injected with chemicals?  For someone who doesn't even know what a cell is, all of these things sound as scary as aliens invading earth.

In the end, all of Skloot's efforts are paid back in spades. She delivers a touching story of a poor black woman whose cells changed the face of science and medicine forever - and her family's struggle with poverty, identity, and their mother's loss.

I would recommend this book to everyone!  Skloot's website has a lot of great FAQ's, too.

Herro.

Wow, my last post was in March and I never even finished our Italy trip!  Man, I'm a terrible blogger.

So...this is my attempt to revive this blog.  Mostly because I like the name "Blogsmeade," and also because I used up all my creativity coming up with it.  Here's what I'm going to do:

Four days a week, I'll try to post about things I love, like, or am mildly inclined to share.  One day a week, I'll post about something I hate, dislike, or am annoyed with.

Heeeere we go!

Day 1 - When in Rome...

[NOTE: Sorry for the delay!  I couldn’t figure out how to connect to the wireless in our Rome hotel. Didn’t want to blog without pictures but now I’ve figured out the wireless situation in Florence!]

Day 1 – When in Rome…

…we must do as the Romans do!  No rest for the weary.

After a long flight from DC to Rome (where, in the future, I will gladly pay the extra fee on United for Economy PLUS leg room), we arrived in Rome very early on Friday morning.  After we deplaned (and my legs screamed for joy... or is that just lactic acid burning my flesh?), we picked up our luggage and flew through customs faster than the ink drying in my passport. 

We found the train station easily and hopped aboard towards Termini station.  At Termini, we fatefully decided to save money and take the metro to our hotel. BAD IDEA. Our metro line (Linea A) was at the far end of the station. Lugging 49.5 pounds (yes, you read that right) of luggage through hot underground tunnels, in morning rush hour with a wool scarf and heavy jacket, up and down flights of STAIRS, had me literally cursing our frugality.

But we finally made it to Barberini station and our hotel, the Daphne Inn (which is awesome.)  Tired as we were, we pressed on, determined not to fall victim to jet lag.  First stop: the Spanish steps.  Perhaps it was extreme fatigue, but I don’t see why it’s so famous.  They’re steps.  Walking up, you reach one of a thousand churches at the top; walking down, one of a hundred fountains splashes at the bottom.  Whoopee.

Scalinata della Trinità dei Monti, aka The Spanish Steps

From there, everything else is a blur.  We saw the Fontaine di Trevi (Trevi Fountain), the Fontaine di Tritone (Triton Fountain, near our hotel), and walked down Via Condotti, the Fifth Avenue of Rome.  Again, maybe it’s fatigue but I was underwhelmed.  One thing I did notice, however, is fur.  From fur-trimmed parkas to fur collars and stoles to full-length fur coats, EVERYONE was wearing fur in Rome.  Fur and over-the-knee leather boots.  Another universal truth? You can spot an American from blocks away by her Uggs and North Face jacket. 

Fontaine di Trevi

Fontaine di Trevi, nighttime

Fontaine di Tritone, nighttime

By the time we reached the Pantheon, I was ready to breeze through and call it a day. But the interior took by breath away. Here, I was impressed. The sheer size, the marble grandeur, the tomb of Raphael!  But most of all, the dome, the largest unreinforced concrete dome ever built. It appeals my sense of symmetry – at 142 feet, the height is equal to its diameter. The oculus, “eye of heaven”, illuminates the dome. In its original glory, the dome was supposed to be lined in bronze, which would have reflected the sunlight, setting the Pantheon ablaze. But centuries of plunder by emperors and popes to line their own war chests and bankroll art commissions have stripped the Pantheon of its burnished luxury.  I can only imagine how much more splendid it would have been to the ancient Romans. 

Pantheon, exterior

Pantheon, interior

We wrapped up the day with gelato from Giolatti (okay gelato but San Crispino is waaaaay better) and then crashed for 13 hours straight.

Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Motto: "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus"

Never tickle a sleeping dragon.

 
(In case anyone is wondering, why yes, that IS a Ghostbusters chasing Pac-Man t-shirt!)

Proton packs OUT! Power pellets IN!

This is another long and photo heavy post (but totally worth it!)  

The Forbidden Journey is the biggest reason why WWoHP is so amazing. For roller coaster enthusiasts, The Forbidden Journey = Hogwarts + Magic + (Superman Ride)^2. In other words, FREAKING AWESOME. It's unlike any ride I've ever been on, combining 3D, 4D, and real roller coaster motion - totally sick!

 Braving Mt. Fanny Pack was totally worth it.

To get to The Forbidden Journey ride, you enter Hogwarts castle and wind through the castle halls. The castle exterior is so massive that I nearly missed the the entrance to Hogwarts. Past a huge stone entryway flanked by stone pillars, topped with signature winged boars, you see white script blossoming over the Hogwarts crest on the stone facade as if written by an invisible quill-wielding hand - and then disappears like magic! It's nearly impossible to tell how the lettering materializes unless you've pushed past the mountain of fanny packs and mashed your nose six inches away from the transient lettering. (Because I braved Mount Fanny Pack to find out, I'll tell you - embedded fiber optics.)

So, the idea is that the school has welcomed Muggles into their hallowed halls for the first time ever. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and Hermione plan to sneak you into a Quidditch match. The plan is for you to meet them in the Room of Requirement and fly out with Harry and Ron (riding brooms) on a school bench that Hermione has enchanted. But you're in for far more than just a Quidditch match!

The line starts in the greenhouse where live exotic plants hang from a paned glass ceiling. A fenced off area houses a row of potted mandrakes and other Herbology tools (rakes, spades, and other toxic plant extraction tools.)

 

Inside the castle, you are greeted by a large, gilded wizard (the architect of Hogwarts, as seen in the Chamber of Secrets movie), with a small lion and badger at his feet and holding a miniature Hogwarts castle in his extended hand. Another gilded wizard (the first Hogwarts headmaster; while the Four Founders were professors, none held the title of headmaster) imperiously points his finger at you.

 I want YOU...for Hogwarts.

In between the golden wizards - the four House point hourglasses!  (Why is Ravenclaw so deficient in gems when they're the brainiest of the lot? Gryffindor is leading the pack here, which means that Harry and Ron probably have not yet had Potions.)

SNAPE: Five MILLION points from Gryffindor!

I'll think of a reason later.

At the end of the hallway stands the giant bronze phoenix statue leading up to Dumbledore's office in the movies. Clearly, I'm just a tad excited to be here. The entire castle is filled with choice nuggets like these from the books and movies. I almost wished the line was longer so I would have more time to SEE EVERYTHING.

 OMG! Faaaaaawkes!

It was too dark deep inside the castle for my camera to take any decent pictures, but you next enter a central hall with huge vaulted ceilings and walls covered in talking portraits, including the Four Founders - Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Gryffindor and Slytherin were easy to find; Hufflepuff was harder to find, and someone had to point out Ravenclaw to me. Anyways, it's quite impressive. I borrowed this picture from Google:

"Helga, dear, do these robes make me look fat?"

Afterwards, you move into Dumbledore's office with cabinets FULL of wizarding gadgets. Even the Pensieve makes an appearance! 

FOR SALE: One Pensieve.
May consider choc frog card trade.

Thankfully, they used the proper stone basin as shown in the Order of the Phoenix movie and not the ridiculous Silver Surfer surfboard that replaced it in the Half-Blood Prince movie. (What the hell, David Yates? WHY? WHY?? You cut me deep.)

Next is the Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA) classroom where a huge skeleton of something sinister hangs from the ceiling, and jars of pickled things and creepy skulls lurk in windowsills. Holograms of Harry, Ron, and Hermione are beamed onto a balcony where they reveal themselves from underneath the Invisibility Cloak. They convince you to ditch History of Magic and come play Quidditch with Harry and Ron instead! The dialogue is peppered with Ron and Hermione's classic bickering (Ron: Prof. Binns is such a dead bore. Hermione: Ron! Prof. Binns IS dead! He's a ghost! You're so insensitive.)

Right before you board the ride, the Sorting Hat offers bits of sage advice. The pic here doesn't do it justice - it looks so much more sentient in person.

 Oh you may not think me pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

That's it! I won't spoil The Forbidden Journey surprise. Trust me, you'll want to find out on your own.

I died and went to Hogsmeade!

Excuse the shine. It's Florida.

Last weekend, I finally made it to my own personal mecca, the Wizarding World of Harry Potter (WWoHP)! Hallelujah! WWoHP was everything I'd hoped for and more. Universal did an ah-may-zing job recreating the world JK Rowling spent more than a decade inventing (and I spent fangirling over). Their attention to detail was remarkable. We spent 8.5 glorious hours at the park and I still wish I had three more pairs of eyes to soak everything in.

WARNING: This is a long and photo heavy post. (Click on the pics to open a new window and click again enlarge.)

With that kind of warning, you'd think I like to take a lot of photos. Well, what has two thumbs and forgot to charge the batteries in her camera before embarking on the trip of a lifetime? THIS GIRL. My camera died after two hours. Gaaaaah. I'm still kicking myself. Anyways, the photos below are a mix from my camera and crummy iPhone 3GS (not even iPhone 4 or Droid!)

Before I left, my friend Chrissie advised me not to bring my DSLR because you can only bring on the rides whatever fits into your pockets. No bags or purses allowed. (Those must be stowed in lockers, conveniently provided for free for the first 30-40 minutes or so. After that, it's $3/hr! With a crowded park, the locker fees can easily rack up.) So I made sure to bring my point-n-shoot and wear loose jeans with big pockets. Despite the warning, we got lucky - the park was relatively empty. By that I mean, most everyone at Islands of Adventure could be found in Hogsmeade. The rest of the park was empty; we actually walked onto The Hulk and Superman! Jody tells me this is unheard of. Even with the "crowd," we only paid a locker fee once. 

Holy Hogsmeade! 

I really felt like I was in Britain, with tilting buildings and narrow streets. Not all the stores are operational, but the storefronts make you wish they were so you could buy a self-writing quill at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, or take home a Mimbulus mimbletonia from Dogweed & Deathcap (also featuring a live, screaming mandrake!) Tomes and Scrolls carries the whole Gilderoy Lockhart collection, including his best-selling autobiography Magical Me. But what I really coveted was Hermione's beautiful, ombre pink chiffon gown for the Yule Ball in the Gladrags Wizardwear display case. *Sigh*

 Zany Zonkos! 

Zonko's is an actual store. Hooray! All of the merchandise is, obviously, jokes and toys and most is for sale - Extendable Ears! Pygmy Puffs! Fanged Flyers! However, for the keen-eyed observer, you can spot merchandise from the books only for display - Portable Swamp, Dr. Fillibuster's Fireworks, and a tangible, hanging recreation of the fire-breathing firecracker that chased down Umbridge. So much fun. I know there are more that I missed, but I was hindered with only one pair of eyes.

Honeydukes!

Honeydukes could give Willy Wonka a run for his candy-coated money. Again, rows upon rows of chocolates and candies, many of which are adapted from the books. I bought a box of Peppermint Toads (delicious!) and hard candies in a Honeydukes jar.

Beauxbaton and Durmstrang!

The Triwizard Rally is a show that takes place several times a day at the top end of Hogsmeade, before you get to Hogwarts. The show features routines from the students at Durmstrang Institute and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The Durmstrang guys were pretty intense; this guy looks angry. Or maybe he just resented wearing a brown polyester uniform and combat boots in 100% Florida humidity. Also, where can a girl get a peaked felt fedora? I want one.

I heard the other show offered is the Frog Choir comprising four Hogwarts students, one from each house, accompanied by singing frogs. I didn't see them at all though, so all I can conclude is that they alternate shows.

Two tidbits before I move on: 1) Moaning Myrtle greets you in the loo; and 2) the park is fun for Potter novices and fans alike. You don't have to achieve fanboy status to enjoy yourself.  But if you are a fan, the park designers hid Easter eggs all over the park. I won't give them away (not that I caught them all anyways), but it's fun to look up and spy, say, a jar of doxy eggs or a pot of bubotuber pus while drinking your butterbeer.

Next up...HOGWARTS! All aboard the Hogwart's Express!